The Time Portal 3: The Princess

by Joe Corso

  “Valuable learning was gifted me,” the King said. “From here until tomorrow, I will dress as befits a King, even while hunting, and will ride with thirty of my men. It is much harder for waywards to make harm to royalty, as the punishment is severe, and much more trying to push against an army than a few.”

  At that moment, the King’s steward approached and announced that the two hunters were in the anti-chamber. The King motioned for the steward to escort them in. Anxiously, they stood before the King. While in the forest, the King had alerted the men to great things that would come as their reward, but at this moment, that was no comfort to their shaky knees. This moment, at this time, standing before their King, would most likely never happen again.

  The King called aloud for everyone’s attention. When the room quieted, he told the court of how these two men had come to his aid with no thought for their own safety. One of the men beamed with pride, chin held high while the other was embarrassed. Not at all accustomed to this sort of attention, he tilted his head downward a bit, glanced around the room, and was paralyzed by shyness. The King told the court how these brave men had sought to rescue him, at great peril to themselves, and how that risk did in fact turn true as they found themselves being held captive by James. The King glanced toward his steward. The steward left the room and returned moments later carrying a large tray. On top of the tray sat two small pouches, neatly tied with drawstrings at the top, and two heavy gold chains adorned with golden amulets.

  “Please be seated,” the King announced.

  The steward approached with the tray. He stood still and emotionless as the King picked up one bag, handed it to the one of the men, then lifted the other and placed it into the other man’s hands.

  “Inside awaits thirty in gold. The kingdom takes note of your service. The kingdom shows the deepest of gratitude.”

  The King turned again to his steward, picked up one of the golden chains. One side had a drawing of the King’s profile. The other held an inscription of the men’s names.

  “To Mr. John Hart,” the King said as he placed the chain around the first man’s neck.

  “Mr. Henry Abbott,” he said to the second man as he brought the chain over the man’s head until it fell resting on his chest.

  “Spend the wealth wisely for gold passes quickly, but the necklace will remain forever, you first, and then your offspring and theirs. Priceless it is.”

  Both men fell to their knees, hands clasped, with their heads bowing again and again giving nods of thanks.

  “Your Majesty,” John said. “Were we to return to our families with boar or beast with antlers, we should indeed be blessed, but Your Majesty, our journey takes home so much more. Our children, our wives, are forevermore changed by these deeds.”

  The captain of the King’s guards was in charge of any and all prisoners. He assembled his men and told them what was expected of them. Each of James’s men were placed one to a cell with James being held at the opposite end of the dungeon.

  James, ever the cunning actor, continued to hold his heart as though in pain, and dropped back toward the end of the line, juggled in and out of his men, ensuring his place as last. Carefully, the guards surrounded the men as each entered his new prison home. There was one man left and that was James. The captain dismissed all of the guards but one.

  “We’ll take care of this one,” he said.

  As the captain opened the last cell door to place James inside, James carefully eyeing the guard’s sword, removed his right hand from his heart, and in one swift move grabbed the sword from its sheath and plunged it deep inside the guard’s stomach. Quickly, he withdrew the weapon, turned around with the blood-stained sword, pointed it toward the captain and ordered him into the cell. The captain, caught completely by surprise, did as he was told. James, sword in hand, ran up the long, cold stairs all the way to the landing.

  Lucky and Mickey were deep in conversation with the King – all eyes fixated on them. The castle was abuzz with tales of the two men materializing from nowhere, flying to the clouds where they summoned thunder to fall upon the mercenaries, and how the thunder obeyed.

  The story, throughout the day, took on a life of its own, morphing into Lucky and Mickey appearing as monsters with six arms and two heads each, one head facing forward, another in the opposite direction, giving the men the ability to spot the enemy in the front and the back at the same time. Each time the story was retold, it became grander, more colorful and the intrigue around Lucky and Mickey intensified. Everywhere the men strode that day, townsfolk parted like the Red Sea and the men were given a wide berth, out of reverence, yet also out of fear. They were a superstitious people, afraid that being lightly brushed by one of the wizards might bewitch them.

  When the palace conversation began to lull a bit, King Robert asked the royal sisters if they would like to retrieve the gift that their father had sent to Lucky. The women, as well as King William, were eager to see Lucky’s reaction. Off they went, giggling like little girls, all the way out of the room and down the long hallway, heading toward the stairs that would take them up to their private quarters. What precious sisterly moments these were now since the Princess was healthy again. The sickness had clearly brought the sisters closer together, that much was apparent, as where there was one, there was the other, always sitting at court together, talking until the wee hours of the morning or playing dress up for each other while preparing for another royal gala.

  The ladies traveled down the hall, chattering as they reached the stairs and were about to ascend the long winding steps that eventually led to the royal sleeping quarters. Suddenly there appeared a man, a strange man, at the stairs leading to the dungeon. James stood still as the women fixed their eyes upon him. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the Queen and in the same instant as the Princess ran to her sister’s aid he ran his sword through the Princess. She fell to the ground where she lay lifeless. James had murdered the Princess. The Queen let out a bloodcurdling scream and as she did, James covered her mouth with his hand, picked her up as if she were a feather, and carried her towards the door leading to freedom while holding a sharp instrument at her throat. The guards, lining the hallway, responded quickly only to find James dragging the Queen, his left arm around her waist and his right hand against her throat, daring them to move. The Queen’s face was covered in tears and her eyes spoke exhibited shear horror. Afraid that the crazed man would kill the Queen, the guards allowed them to pass.

  Lucky and Mickey heard the scream, jumped up from their seats and ran toward the sounds. They, too, stopped in their tracks as they saw the Princess lying dead on the stone floor. They looked up to see a man, James, dragging the Queen with him as he fled.

  “Stop!” Lucky yelled, his voice echoing down the walls.

  Castle guests and guards filled the hallway as they began to witness to the drama unfolding before them.

  James stopped abruptly. He recognized the voice. Slowly he turned and saw the person whose voice had called out to him. It was the wizard, the one who had defeated him and his men, the reason that James was now here and the reason that his men were being in cold, dark cells down below.

  “Retreat please,” Lucky told the crowd, asking them to back up and give him room.

  Lucky then gave a wave of his hands, in a somewhat magical motion, and stared as though he was looking at something. He pointed at James, snapped his fingers, and dove into the portal, disappearing into thin air. Gasps and terror filled the room as the onlookers began backing up even more so than before, hands steepled in prayer fashion, looking up to the gods and asking, pleading, for their safety.

  Lucky stepped out into the dungeon. He looked around. James’s wounded men were there, each in his own cell. He knew they were as he had scrutinized every prisoner as they were marched down the long corridor leading to the stairs that led to the dungeon. James was nowhere. Doubts filled his head about the wisdom of incarcerating James last. James had appeared wounded, but was he really?
Lucky began to doubt that as well. And then it happened. He saw James at the opposite end of the dungeon, as he was being led into his cell, the captain opening the cell door as the guard behind James kept watch. Lucky disappeared from that area and reappeared right behind the guard and grabbed James’s arm just as he reached for the guard’s sword. A startled captain looked up in time to watch as Lucky shoved James past him into the cell, slamming the door shut. And just like that, Lucky disappeared.

  Lucky resumed his conversation with the King as though nothing had ever happened. It seems that Mickey had kept the leader quite entertained during these brief moments. Lucky had disappeared and suddenly returned.

  The Queen and the Princess entered the room carrying the gift from their father. The crowd sat still, motionless. An eerie silence filled the air. The Queen, sensing this, looked at her husband and out at the guests, smiled, but none were returned.

  “Why faces so forlorn?” she asked.

  “Well,” Lucky said, “dear Queen, it appears that during your absence a scuffle ensued, one that forced the wizard to call upon his magic. But, let the festivities resume. This is a most joyous evening.”

  Lucky’s gift was exquisite. King William had felt guilty that the man who adored his daughter, who sought earnestly for the King’s approval, had endured his wrath. What joy this wizard brought to his Princess daughter and for days after, the royal had thought of how he could make amends. The gold ring was ornately carved with the King’s crest proudly carved into the center. Diamonds adorned each side and a splattering of rubies was interspersed throughout. Lucky could not even hazard a guess of the weight of the gold but it was heavy, almost too heavy to wear. It was “regally” large, a bit ostentatious, but absolutely beautiful.

  The Princess smiled as Lucky examined the ring from every angle. He smiled at her. She smiled back. The King and Queen smiled at each other and . . . nodded.

  Chapter Thirty – One

  King Robert, his hands behind his back, paced the floor, ranting to his room full of listeners about how he was going to teach that mongrel leader a lesson by hanging him from the highest point of the gates leading into the village as a message for all who enter the kingdom as to what happens to villains and brigands when they choose to try out their mischief in this land. The King, sensing disapproval on Lucky’s face, turned to him.

  “What troubles you, wizard? Is there a manner more fitting that shall impart a message more fearful?” the King asked.

  “The punishment, Your Majesty, has great merit, however, might the King consider another manner?”

  The King’s eyes widened a bit, intrigued at the suggestion and he looked at Lucky questioningly.

  “By what manner do you suggest we punish him?”

  “Since this man is a warrior, let him expire like a warrior. With the King’s favor, Your Highness, I shall like escort him to ancient Rome, to the coliseum, home of Emperor Nero’s gladiators and their many battles. Once there, he can fight and perhaps feel the fear, the same fear, that he has chosen to impart on others.”

  The King’s eyes brightened. He smiled.

  “Excellent idea,” the King said. “But one provision I must dictate. King Robert must journey with you and bear witness to this event. My mind needs freedom from sleepless nights.”

  “Agreed,” Lucky answered.

  The King laughed, slapped his thighs in glee and rose from his chair.

  “By the gods, Lucky, your punishment bears much more thought than mine. So be it,” he said loudly. “Ancient Rome it is.”

  The following morning Lucky, Mickey and King Robert, accompanied by six men-at-arms, walked the long dungeon corridor, lined on both sides by cells, and stopped at the one at the end that held James. The King peered through the bars.

  “You wretched thief.” he said. “Are you ready to meet your penalty?”

  James looked the King in the eye, smiled, and answered calmly, even arrogantly, with perhaps even a small amount of evil charm.

  “At what post will the hanging take place?” purposely not addressing the King properly by his name.

  “There shall be no hanging. Shall we proceed?”

  “But of course, let us not delay the entertainment,” James answered, doing his best to mask his curiosity.

  Mickey, concerned that James might create trouble while inside the portal, carefully and tightly bound his hands and feet with heavy-duty cable ties brought from modern day times. Together, the four men walked and walked, to where no one knew but Lucky. He could have entered a portal right there in the cell but for some reason, he felt the need to extend the drama, allow uncertainty and nerves to kick in. Eventually, they brought him into the Great Room in the center of the castle. Lucky instructed the guards to stop and asked that they form a wide circle around Mickey, Lucky and James. Lucky turned to the King and asked if he might be provided with a sword and dagger. The King ordered that it be given to him. A guard hastened around the circle, crossed behind the men and handed both weapons to the King who in turn presented them to Lucky. James watched, feeling certain that he was about to meet his fate, but then Lucky did something quite odd. He took the sword and the dagger, secured them to his belt, and grabbed James by one arm. Mickey held him by the other arm, the King held Mickey’s arm and all four men took a step forward and disappeared right before the guards.

  Lucky had become quite adept at creating a portal at whim, but beyond that, creating a portal that would transport him to the exact time period and location that he sought. And here they stood, just as planned, staring out at the great arena – the history making place where life and death took place as regularly as sunrise and sunset.

  Mickey pushed James over to the left of the portal, almost crushing the King and Lucky, and worked quickly to cut through the plastic straps that held James’s hands and feet. James had no idea what was going on. His face lit up for a moment as he felt the freedom of his hands. Next, Lucky turned around, facing James, and handed him the sword and dagger. James stood, staring at the weapons, thinking that this was too good to be true. Lucky quickly stepped behind him and before James had a clue, he gave him a hard and fast shove that landed him right smack in the middle of the arena. James stumbled and fell onto the bloody sands of the Coliseum. A group, already gathered there, watched as he quickly jumped to his feet and with lightning speed parried a sword thrust from a semi naked man carrying a shield. James was in his element now. He attacked the gladiator savagely and with a vengeance. After a short, fierce battle, he killed the man. Next, he turned toward the spot where he had previously stood with Lucky, the King, and Mickey. With great bravado, he smiled, waved his bloody sword in a sweeping motion, took the sword and brought it to his forehead and bowed his head slightly as a salute to the men who had escorted him there. It was drama at its finest and the men in the portal admired his courage and charming . . . audacity.

  Epilogue

  After dinner, Lucky asked Princess Krystina if she would join him on a walk through the garden. She obliged. As they walked toward the gardens, Lucky was eerily silent. Krystina noticed.

  “Lucky, what silences you? Do you have troubles?” she asked.

  “My heart has troubles,” he said to her as they continued their walk.

  They strolled through the entrance of the majestic botanical gardens where Lucky stood for a moment, marveling at their beauty. They walked past rows of beautiful

  multi-colored flowers mixed with medicinal herbs and various plants and trees, until they came to a bench strategically placed so as to allow the sitter to soak up the fragrances and scenery.

  Finally he spoke.

  “Krystina, my heart has such fondness for you.”

  “Yes, as does mine for you.”

  “I have questions but answers do not come forth. My life exists in one place while you inhabit another. It would be cruel and undeserving to force upon you a life that is so foreign, perhaps so frightening, and even one that may place your health in peril. We kno
w of how our hearts speak but what of our minds? I fear for your health. I fear for your mind. The place I inhabit is in contrast to the one you call home. My thoughts of trying to make it more were wrong and I beg your forgiveness. Your father stands in truth when he speaks that you would be marrying a wizard who could vanish at any time. Departing makes my heart weep but my head speaks that I must, out of true devotion, make this decision to protect you. I hope your mind can begin to understand.”

  Krystina buried her face in Lucky’s chest to hide her tears. She remained there for a few moments until she looked up at him.

  “Take me to your room. I will be your wife if only for a little while.”

  “No, Krystina. As much as my heart desires you, it would be wrong. You must remain chaste and bring honor to your family.”

  “Betroth me, even if it is for this night. Betroth me. I want to be your wife”

  “No, Krystina. I may never journey here again. It would be wrong.”

  Lucky had never had this dilemma before. Like most men, when he had met a woman to whom he was attracted, there was no discussion. Things just took nature’s normal course of action. But Krystina was different. She was a Princess. And she was the sister-in-law of the King, his friend, so he had to ask himself – was this something that he could do with a clear conscience? Yes, he could, he decided. You bet he could. He took her hand, pulled her off the bench, and they made their way back to the castle and to his room.

  It was a deep sleep, one where he and Krystina were floating over land. It was as if they were on a magic carpet, only there was no carpet, just them, and as they flew, he looked down and saw an ocean, with no water in it. He awakened to someone nudging him. He looked up to find Krystina standing over him, smiling.

  “Good morning,” she said. “The rooster calls.”

  “Well,” he said, “that was a rather pleasant way to spend sunset, do you say yes?”